


Anathema

by wiiped_outt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Draco Malfoy POV, Fluff and Angst, Not really though, Other, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Reader insert but reader not main focus, Reader-Insert, Rivals to Lovers, Short Chapters, Slytherin Reader, Unrequited Love, draco is an astronomy nerd, draco kinnie lol, enemies to lovers kinda, greek gods pls dont kill me for using your names, i dont know how to tag fics, i havent written hp fics in so long but i love draco so, idk what else to tag so lets get into it, rivals is the better word
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiiped_outt/pseuds/wiiped_outt
Summary: 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐚 (𝑛) | a cursed, detested person.To him, she was the sun. Something so bright and beautiful that she was able to bring life to everything around her. Her beauty was that to rival Aphrodite's, but she didn't know it.She was the stars, with her ever-shining light being there to guide lost people, like the sailors out at sea, or better yet, him. To him, she was everything. His past, present, his future. His sun, his stars.And he was just a meteor crashing through space, trying and failing to get close enough to her gravity to be pulled in.If only he was able to tell her everything he felt.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue | Heliophilia

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for tapping on this story! it’s one of my favorites, so i hope you enjoy it. there’s a spotify playlist for the story (called anathema ✧ draco malfoy) by me (wiiped-outt), so if you want to listen to that, feel free :) the songs go with the story indirectly.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 (𝑛) | an attraction to or love of sunlight.

A gentle breeze brushed over Draco's shoulders as he walked past the Black Lake. It was dark, and the night sky was covered in a few thin clouds that moved with the wind, carefully masking the stars. He stopped walking for a moment to stare up at the sky, then moved to the school.

For once, the school was empty and filled with an eerie silence. As he walked, the clicking of his shoes ricocheted off the walls and echoed back into his ears, louder than anything he had ever heard. Draco knew he was dreaming by the castle's emptiness alone. The halls were never empty. No matter the time or day, there was always someone walking through the halls. Maybe a Prefect, maybe a professor, maybe another student. But the halls were completely void of another soul, so it could only be a figment of his imagination.

He felt small and bare, just like the halls of the castle. He couldn't shake this feeling in his chest like he couldn't breathe, but he was breathing just fine. Everything felt wrong, but nothing was out of place. Just him.

He was unsure of where to go, so he kept walking, his feet moving on autopilot while he listened to their echo. The peace and quiet was euphonious to his ears, a gentle feeling he wanted to bottle up and store. If only his mind were always this tranquil.

As he walked, something slipped over him like a blanket, filling his heart with a warm, familiar notion. It grew in his chest the same way a child grows under their parents' eyes: Slowly, without notice, until it's entirely different from what it once was.

Draco couldn't put a name to it. It wasn't until he arrived at the end of the corridor that he could place it: Nostalgia. No, that wasn't right. He had been here before, but he hadn't, really. He just knew he would be.

The wall directly in front of Draco was filled with tall, symmetrical windows. The one in the middle was taller than a small giant, probably, since it reached from three feet off the floor, where the windowsill was, to the ceiling, though the sides were curved at the top so only a singular point of the window actually touched the ceiling. The other two windows started at the same place near the floor, but only reached up to a third of the height of the middle one. The three windows created a perfect opportunity to see outside, no matter where you looked.

Draco approached the one on the right and rested his hands on the windowsill. A shiver ran up his arms at the cold stone, and he quickly withdrew them.

The moonlight on this particular night was nowhere close to the soft light Draco usually saw when he looked at the sky. No, this was harsh, bold. It shone directly into Draco's eyes, seeing every bit of his soul in technicolor. The moon's stare held him down and kept him from looking away for even a second.

It was nights like these where the beauty of the moon compared to that of the Sun. It shone across the ground, into windows, and on the lake, presenting its enviable light proudly. Though those nights only happened every once in a while, its beauty always prevailed through the night.

He couldn't bring himself to break eye contact with the moon until he heard another sound. This one was abnormally familiar, and he turned to see what was creating it.

_Click-clack._

It got louder with every passing second, and it was fast, almost as if the noise was on a mission to find Draco.

A person rounded the corner. She was wearing her school uniform without the robe, which was just a white shirt and black trousers. She was missing her shoes, her hair was ruffled, and she had this scared look in her eyes as if she had just been running from something—or, trying to find someone.

Draco tried to look at her face, but the only features visible were her eyes. The rest was blurred by the harsh moonlight that was unapologetically streaming in through the windows.

"Draco, thank goodness, I've been looking everywhere for you," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Me? Why?"

Something flashed in the girl's bright eyes, but he couldn't tell if it was the moonlight or something else. She didn't answer the question.

"You know, Draco, the moon reminds me of you. It's beautiful, but mysterious. It holds secrets and it's brilliant, just like you."

And with that, he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates every thursday.


	2. One | Aureolus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐬 (𝑎𝑑𝑗.) | gilded, adorned, or covered with gold.

He took his seat at the Slytherin table and let his eyes wander across the Great Hall. In the background, the Sorting was occuring, but he never paid attention to it, especially not now. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular, just someone who could remind him that Crabbe and Goyle weren't the only people in the world after spending eight hours with them on the train.

His eyes grazed past people, only seeing momentary screencaps of their experiences. One student was laughing and clapping his friend on the back, one student was quietly reading a book while they pushed their glasses up on their nose, one student was walking toward their House's table and tripped midway. One student was joking with her friend and looking up at the ceiling.

He recognized the last student and let his eyes rest on her for a second longer than the others. She was just like everybody else. She laughed and cried and made mistakes and forgot to do her homework at times. She was smart enough to pass her classes, but she wasn't always top of her class. (Except for Astronomy. She had been top of her class in Astronomy since she started taking the class as a first year.) She was just a normal witch who did ordinary things and blended into the crowd. But she was Y/n L/n, the one Slytherin who didn't bend to his will.

She was strong and free-willed, like a butterfly—beautiful, and kind enough to bring joy to those around her. Headstrong with a soul bold enough to show itself in everything she did, she was golden, with her aureate aura and beauty to rival Aphrodite's.

(But don't tell anyone Draco said that. He wasn't in the mood to have a goddess hunting him, at least, not today.)

It wasn't that she was above him in status, because she was not. He had more money and more power, both at home and the school. But she had priorities. If he told her to move, she only moved if it was for something she needed to do. If he asked for her homework, she would offer to teach him the content, rather than simply giving him the answers. If he said anything vaguely rude in her direction, she would ignore him. He didn't understand it. How could she not succumb to the pressure? He was the Slytherin Prince, for Merlin's sake.

He saw her in the common room from time to time. If she wasn't doing her own homework, she was helping another student with theirs. And in the hallways, she was always the one to help a student pick up their books after they tripped. She was too kind. But she wasn't kind in the weak, timid type of way. No, she was kind in a strong, otherwordly way, in the one way Draco didn't know how to beat.

That was what intrigued him so much. He couldn't bully her into submission, and that was really his only way of gaining rank in the school, besides flaunting his money (and that only worked some of the time).

She was sitting with her friend and staring up at the magical ceiling to watch the stars and clouds as they passed in the sky outside. Every year, she sat in the same seat for the first feast of the year. She would stay in the same place while she spoke with her friends and welcomed the new first years to Slytherin, as if the other Slytherins unconsciously knew that it was her spot and her spot only.

A laugh rang out in front of him, and Draco was pulled out of his thoughts. He was met with an illuminating smile and bright eyes: Her eyes. With their color so vibrant and awing, and her smile enough to make even Draco feel like smiling, she was powerful. She had a strange effect on him that made him unsure of his place, which rarely ever happened.

"Well, I am starved! I'm glad the Sorting went quickly," Y/n said to her friend next to her, "I just hope Dumbledore's speech does the same. Then we can welcome the new first years to Slytherin and dig into the feast!"

As if on cue, at the front of the Great Hall, Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and silenced the entire student body with just one clap of his hands. Draco turned his attention to him, preparing himself mentally for another long, boring speech.

"Good evening, students. Before the feast begins, I'd like to welcome the new first years to Hogwarts once again. I hope you young ones find solace in your House," he said. "Next, I'm afraid that this year will find each and every one of us—including myself—experiencing a few changes to the normal we've grown used to in the previous years here. Never fear, students, these changes are nothing too drastic. You will find out what they are when the time comes, and we shall welcome this change with an open mind. Embracing change is the only way to truly improve oneself. Deeper connections, new feelings, and growth will surely come from this year. On that note, keep your friends close. This is not the year to lose them. They will do you good in this upcoming year, and I'm sure they will do you even better in the years to come. . . ."

A cloud moved away from the ceiling above, and Y/n immediately turned to stare up at the sky, scanning the stars. The candles floating in the air reflected in her eyes, creating a small sparkle in them as if the entire castle was conspiring just to show how much she loved the stars.

"Look at the moon, Heather," she whispered, tugging on the sleeve of her friend's robes. "Isn't it lovely tonight? It's so bright."

Her friend nodded along, pointing at one cloud while halfway paying attention to Dumbledore's speech.

Draco, curious, also glanced upwards. The Great Hall's magical roof projected the outside sky onto the ceiling so that the students could see it from inside. Instantly, Draco noticed a bundle of stars and a small, Cheshire cat's smile moon by the corner of the ceiling. Indeed, it was quite brilliant, giving off enough light to make it difficult to see some of the stars.

"Here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, "we stand together, and we help one another. We keep each other close." His words were in the back of Draco's mind, just barely making it through his ears. He was too distracted by the sky. "This year might be scary, but it's not one you're going to forget."

Draco broke his eyes from the candle-lit sky to look at the Headmaster. He looked the same as always: boring and old, but wise. Intelligent. Yet there was this twinge in his beard, as if he was excited for the upcoming year, even though he had just described how scary it would be.

He could only hope the changes were going to be promising.


	3. Two | Eunoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚 (𝑛.) | beautiful thinking; a well mind.

A quiet sigh escaped Draco's lips as he scratched at the corners of his paper with his quill. As usual, Professor Binns was droning on about the effect of some war in the Wizarding World, or something. Draco wasn't really listening. Nobody was. And Professor Binns obviously didn't care, considering his mouth didn't stop running once. Not even the best students were listening (Draco being one of them), and they usually always paid at least a bit of attention. Professor Binns could drop dead (again) and nobody would notice. Sadly, that wouldn't happen, since he was already a ghost.

Draco turned his head and fixated on a student in the back, who switched from playing with his wand, to doodling on his paper, to writing quick notes when the professor said something important. He only had a quarter of his paper filled up, but that was already a quarter more than what Draco had. But did he care enough to change that? No, he did not. Instead, he sighed and turned back around.

On his right, Goyle was leaning his head on his hand, half-asleep. Draco slapped his arm, which jolted him awake, and said, "You can read, right? Take notes for me."

He nodded and started paying attention, but quickly fell back asleep. As annoying as that was, Draco couldn't blame him. This class was the most boring thing he had ever had to experience in his life, and that included the summer after Dobby was freed from the Manor two years ago due to Harry Potter's trick. He had had to go almost a whole summer without a House-elf to pick on.

Next, he tried Crabbe, who was on Draco's left. "Take notes for me."

"Okay," Crabbe said, putting a small cookie in his mouth as he watched Professor Binns. He had stolen more cookies at the dinner feast from the previous night, so they were just sitting around in his pocket and waiting to be eaten. Ah, the simple life of a cookie. They didn't have to listen to a teacher so dull they were worried that their ears would fall off. They didn't even have ears.

Draco watched as Crabbe scrambled down a few random notes onto his paper, and then he finally tuned out the last bits of Professor's Binns' monotonous voice so he could let himself think.

They were only a few weeks into the school year, and those were always the worst. The first week was wasted by the teachers and students getting reacquainted with one another and with the class subject, and then the next few weeks were also wasted by the teachers going over the previous year's content. It was a double edged sword, since it meant the students didn't have to pay attention, but they were also bored out of their minds.

Without noticing, Draco had subconsciously started sketching little inklings of things on his paper. Now there was black ink smudged all over the side of his hand since he had rested it against the wet paper, but on the bright side, he had a mini solar system in the corner of his own paper. Though he hadn't meant to do that, he liked it, and admired it for a moment before hiding it with his arm.

Draco tried to pay attention—as in, he actually looked up at the chalkboard and attempted to understand what was written—but Professor Binns was going off on something entirely different, so he stopped trying. He turned his attention to the next best thing: the window.

Meh, it was just bleak and grey outside. A few raindrops splattered against the window every now and then, but that was the most excitement the weather was going to bring. Maybe everything, even the weather outside, was scheming to make Draco as bored as he possibly could be.

So he went back to his paper. All of his little stars were sitting in wait, so he took it upon himself to make them a little bit less lonely. He grabbed his quill, dipped it in the midnight black ink, and pointed it at a random star. Then he connected it to another star next to it, and another, and another until he had created an entire constellation. Before he knew it, he had made the dragon constellation, Draco, because he knew its structure the best. It was one of his favorites.

That was what happened when you—and everyone else in your family—were named after something to do with astronomy. Back when Draco used to talk about the stars to his parents (he stopped long ago because he realized just how little they cared), he always had to specify if he was talking about the constellation Draco, or himself. The star Bellatrix, or his aunt. The constellation Andromeda, or his grandmother. Eventually he gave up and stopped trying to explain his love for the stars to his parents, and instead told the House-elves who were willing to listen. (They all were. Whether than was out of fear or admiration, Draco didn't know. But they listened.)

Then when he came to Hogwarts and saw that Astronomy was a required class, he was ecstatic. Not only would he be able to look at the night sky regularly without getting in trouble, but also his past knowledge of stars and constellations would finally come in handy for something. For the first quarter, he was acing that class and had the best scores, until L/n came in and took his place at the top. He was mad about it for a while, because no matter how hard he tried, she always seemed to beat him. She was faster at recognizing stars and planets, she knew all of the main constellations, and she was always up for the meteor showers. He didn't understand why she liked it so much, but she did, and that was what got her the position of top in the class.

Draco's irritation about being second to her didn't end until third year. There had been a huge meteor shower from two to five in the morning on a Tuesday night, and because of the unfortunate timing, Professor Sinistra made it optional to watch. However, L/n showed up at the Astronomy Tower right on time, wide awake as if the timing meant nothing to her. Of course, Draco went as well, and they were the only two who saw the meteor shower besides the professor.

While they sat and watched it, Draco glanced over at Y/n and saw the gleam in her eyes. They were sparkling, but not in a crying sort of way. No, her eyes were sparkling in a way matched by no other, almost as if the stars in the sky were trapped in her irises to show the whole world how much she loved the night sky.

When Draco saw that, he knew he had no chance of beating her for top student. She didn't need to be top, she just was, and Draco knew he couldn't take away her love of stars. For that, he admired her.

"Malfoy."

"What?" he said harshly, looking up at the source of the voice. He had finally found sometime not boring to focus on, and someone had ripped him from that.

Goyle was standing up, his bag in his hand. "Class is over."

"Oh, finally. If I have to spend one more minute in that ridiculous class, I will turn myself into a ghost just to strangle Professor Binns."

"But he's already dead," Crabbe commented over his shoulder.

"And?" He turned on his heel and walked out the classroom, not a second wasted in leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates every thursday.


	4. Three | Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝑛) | the recollection of past events.

Two months into the school year, Draco still had no inkling of what the "big change" was. Dumbledore had hinted at it tremendously at the beginning of the year, yet nothing had changed, and it was already October. Draco had nearly forgotten about it until Crabbe brought it up at dinner a few days ago.

Draco was starting to believe that there was no big change. Maybe it was just something Dumbledore had said to get the students to actually listen to his speech for once. It didn't seem like something he would do, but Draco wouldn't put it past him.

One night, however, Draco was sitting in the Great Hall, waiting for the food to appear on the table, when Professor Dumbledore quieted the whole room. "I'm sure all of you remember the change I had warned about at the beginning of the school year. Well, here it is, students."

On cue, Filch opened the doors and a group of women walked in calmly, wearing blue silk uniforms. Butterflies fluttered around them as they walked, making it known that these girls were the epitome of grace. They sat down at the Hufflepuff table smoothly and turned their attention to the front.

"Please welcome Beauxbatons!" Dumbledore said. "This year, Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament, so select students from both visiting schools will be staying here for the year. And now, Durmstrang!"

In an equally—if not more—unimpressive entrance, a group of Durmstrang students marched into the Great Hall, their matching jackets and haircuts militaristic. They looked like a group of paid performers just trying to get through the show for the money.

Once they were done twirling their fancy canes and marching through the room, they walked over to the Slytherin table and sat down.

"Three champions, one from each school, will be chosen by the Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore said, pulling the sheet off of the giant cup next to him. "Due to safety reasons, you must be 17 or older to enter."

An outburst of complaints went up in the room, and Draco sighed. He hadn't wanted to enter anyway, though it would have helped his reputation. Especially if he won. Instead of just being the Slytherin Prince, he would be the young Hogwarts Champion, the strongest out of the three. He liked the sound of that, but he didn't want to deal with the tasks and the other Champions. He could handle not entering.

Professor Dumbledore continued talking about the rules and regulations for the tournament, but Draco felt no need to listen since he wouldn't be entering, anyway. Instead, he listened to the gentle pitter-patter of rain on the roof, even though he could barely hear it over the myriad of voices and other sounds echoing through the Great Hall. The walls seemed to take the sounds, multiply them by ten, and send them back out to the room. Dumbledore's booming voice and the anxious muttering of everyone who wanted to enter in the tournament didn't help one bit.

 _Pit-pat. Pit-pat._ The sound of rain was calming amidst the chaos of everyone. It was kind and reliable, almost like the love Draco should have—but never did—received from his parents. It wrapped him up in a big hug and comforted him, and even though he hadn't necessarily needed confort right then and there, it was nice. He enjoyed the rain, unlike all of the students around him. He didn't even fully understand why.

A cheerful voice drew him from his wandering thoughts and he looked up. A laugh rang out above the other chatter of the students, and for a split second—a wonderful split second—it was all he could hear.

"I wish I could enter. Maybe next time?"

"Y/n, you'll already have graduated by the time the next Tournament comes around."

"That's . . . an irrelevant detail.” 

Dumbledore's voice boomed over hers as he concluded his speech. "Let the feast begin! And welcome our new visitors!"

Plates of food popped up on the table, and everyone's goblets were immediately filled with pumpkin juice. Draco put his chin on his hand, stared at his plate, and didn't touch it.

✧✧✧

Draco didn't bother to stay for the rest of the meal. After he introduced himself to a number of the students from the foreign schools (because he had to make his presence known, of course), he left the Great Hall and ambled the halls aimlessly. He had no homework, and the common room was all too boring for him.

So he wandered about, walking through the castle and observing its beautiful portraits as if he didn't see them every day. A few of them were empty, their occupants bouncing around from picture frame to picture frame so they could dine with the other portrait subjects. One subject, a man with a red hat and purple robes, left his own portrait to walk side-by-side with Draco, crossing through other paintings in order to keep up.

"Do you need something?" he asked when the painting subject didn't stop.

"Do you?"

"No."

"Then no."

The response irked him, but he continued on, assuming that the painted figure would finally part ways with him now that he had asked his question. He noticed him in his peripheral vision, though, and stopped walking. "I presume that since I don't need anything, and neither do I, you can stop following me, no?"

"Yes. But that's no fun," he said while walking through a painting of a woman throwing her food at her companion. He dodged some of the flying food and jumped into another canvas.

This man was starting to become a pest, just like a little mosquito that did nothing but buzz around Draco's ear and occasionally sap him of his blood. Only, instead of blood, he was sapping his social energy.

Rather than dealing with the bug, Draco simply turned at the nearest corner on the wall across from the man's portrait, that way he wouldn't be able to follow him so easily. Why would Draco waste his time on some vexing little bug?

Once Draco was rid of that nuisance, he was able to heat the rain pouring onto the castle's tall roof. He passed a window and watched the water droplets streak down it, seemingly racing to reach the bottom first. Draco stayed for the race to see which droplet won.

Once that was no longer entertaining to him, he moved on. He was now in a corridor that was familiar to him, but strangely, not in the way he was familiar with the others.

The other corridors he had memorized after living after Hogwarts for so many years. While he had probably known this one by the same way, it felt different. It was linked to something else in his brain, something other than his mental map of the castle.

No, he had been here before. But not on his way to class, or the Great Hall, or anyway else. He had been here before in a dream, the same dream that played on loop in his head over the summer before coming to Hogwarts. The same dream that he couldn't help but overanalyse and worry about. It had shaken his core like an earthquake, and he had no clue what it meant.

He kept on until he reached the three windows. The moon was covered entirely by the sea of clouds in the sky, with absolutely no hope of being visible.

A breath escaped Draco's lips, but he couldn't tell if it was relived or anxious. At least he wouldn't have to live out his eerie dream quite yet.

He wasn't going to wait for the footsteps to run to him. He turned away and headed straight for the library, where he could at least get some studying done in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates every thursday.


	5. Four | Enigma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚 (𝑛) | a person or thing that is mysterious or difficult to understand.

Draco spent the next day introducing himself to the Durmstrang students. They seemed to be getting all the attention, and it had to be known that Draco was comfortable around them, as if he knew them personally. He didn't, but nobody needed to know that.

He sat down by one of the students in the library. Rather than studying, he had a book open on his lap while he stared around the room, eyeing some of the pretty people in the library. Draco clasped his hands together over his knees and cleared his throat to get his attention.

"The name's Draco Malfoy. And you?"

"Uh, Maksim Yahontov."

"Pleasure. What's Durmstrang like? I was supposed to go there, but my mother didn't like the idea of me being so far, so I got stuck here at this horrid school."

Yahontov launched into an intricate description of Durmstrang that Draco couldn't help but tune out. Instead, he pretended to listen while nodding along and subtly glancing around to check if people were watching.

He made eye contact with a Gryffindor girl as she walked past, and she immediately turned to whisper with her friend. Behind her, a Ravenclaw barely gave him a look, and he was just a bit offended. He was worthy of their attention, was he not?

Draco ended the conversation after the student was finally done with his explanation, and then moved on to a different student. The foreign students were just prey to him, easy targets to benefit his own social standing. Draco was a devious snake compared to them, the simple mice they were. They might have been strong at their own school, but they were unfamiliar with Hogwarts, which made them below Draco on the food chain.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he said to the person across from him. "And you are?"

"Viktor Krum. Do you need something?"

Instead of answering the question, he started talking. "Did you know that I succeeded at grabbing the Snitch a minute into the game four times last year? The Slytherin Quidditch team had a winning streak because of me."

"Very interesting," Viktor Krum said, paying almost no attention at all. He had a book in his hands, but kept looking up at the students around him. "Is that all you need? If so, I must ask you let me get back to my studying." Okay, maybe this student didn't know his place on the food chain here at Hogwarts. An eagle that could kill Draco just as easily as he could kill him.

"Of course." Draco stood up, rolled his eyes, and walked away.

He left the library and passed a couple of Hogwarts students whispering to each other. "Did you see Malfoy talking to Viktor Krum like that? They must be friends!"

He ignored the rest of the conversation, satisfied with the fruits of his labor.

✧✧✧

Draco walked through the halls, his usual cold, uncaring expression on his face. It was his mask, what kept him from accidentally exposing all of his secrets to the world. Crabbe and Goyle had always said he was hard to read, which was a good thing when you were a Malfoy. He wouldn't dare be seen in public without his mask; if he ever went without it, he was sure that one look from the wrong person would end it all for him. They would find out all of his secrets and ruin his life without a doubt.

Why wouldn't they? He had seen a lot of bad things, done some too. When he was eight, he watched Aunt Bellatrix torture and kill a man in the middle of the sitting room of the Manor. Whenever he found himself home on the holidays, his father was always in the meeting room, conspiring. He nearly knew the layout of the Ministry of Magic by hand, if it weren't for the dumb moving rooms on the bottom floor.

Well, that concluded the debate. The day he let anyone see his true self would be the day his whole world ended.

"Malfoy, you okay in there?"

He snapped back to focus with a jolt. He hadn't necessarily wanted to be present in reality again, but the person who had poked him was adamant.

Draco took a deep breath and looked around, still not answering. He was in the Potions classroom, presumably having arrived while he was lost in the maze that was his brain. A black cauldron was in front of him, as well as his books and a few ingredients that he could probably use to make a deadly potion, if he wanted to. But he didn't, so he decided finally answer the cruel person who had ripped him from his head.

"I'm fine. Just zoned out, is all. What do you care?"

"Just checking. We have to make Alihotsy Draught."

Wait. That voice—

Draco turned to look next to him, quietly begging the gods he didn't believe in that it wasn't who he thought it was. A familiar head of hair appeared in his vision, complete with a pair of intelligent eyes, and a smile so bright the sun had nothing on it. She was grinning up at him, not at all fazed by his brooding expression. He sighed and looked down at his empty cauldron, wishing nothing more than to shrink, curl up into a ball, and sleep.

He didn't want to work with L/n. He knew it would be easy since she knew what she was doing, and she was good at it, but she was too good. Draco was going to get showed up, which was worse than working with someone who didn't have a clue as to what they were making. Honestly, he would rather work with Potter than get showed up like L/n was about to do. She would have the best potion and Snape would compliment her, then he would walk over to Draco's and say, "Hm. Satisfactory."

It happened every single time they made a potion. It was even worse when Draco was paired up with L/n, since it was an immediate disappointment from hers. When Draco was paired with someone else, like Potter or Goyle, Snape would comment on how their solutions barely even qualified as potions, how they were just a hodgepodge of incorrectly-proportioned ingredients, and then see Draco's as a holy grail compared to theirs. But not with L/n.

He didn't want to do this.

"Hey, Malfoy, are you there? You zoned out again."

"I'm fine," he all but growled under his breath. He began picking up the ingredients, once again debating making a deadly potion rather than following the instructions for the Alihotsy Draught.

With a sigh, he opened his book to find the proper instructions. Making the wrong potion, no matter how good or deadly, would result in a failed grade, and the time was going to pass anyway, so he just gave into making the correct potion. Maybe if he really tried, his would be better than L/n's.

Fifty minutes later, Snape walked around the classroom to observe everyone's mixtures. He always started at the back, since that was where Potter sat and he wanted the opportunity to bully him as soon as possible, and then worked his way forward. Draco and L/n were at the front of the classroom, so they had a few minutes to wait.

With every step Snape took, Draco felt himself dreading this even more. He didn't want his potion to be judged yet. He knew Snape would like L/n's better. He always did.

The moment came and a sick feeling rooted itself in the pit of Draco's stomach as he knew what was coming.

"Excellent potion, L/n. I expected no less from you."

"Thank you, Professor."

Snape moved over to Draco's potion, his eyes staring directly into Draco's which undoubtedly showcased his bored, pompous look. "Hm. Satisfactory job, Malfoy."

"Thank you, Professor," he mumbled back as Snape moved onto the next table. He sighed quietly and gathered his books together, craving a nap in his bed back in the Slytherin common room even though he had another class and then homework after this. For a moment, he debated skipping class to sleep, but decided against it. No point in ruining his good reputation with the school for a nap.

✧✧✧

Draco took a seat in the Great Hall, his hunger just about ready to naw away at all of his sensibility as it whined in his stomach. He stared at the empty plate in front of him, seriously contemplating hurting someone if he didn't get food soon. He had even been ten minutes late to dinner; so where was the food?

He let out a groan as he realized what was coming: A speech. Dumbledore walked up to his podium and tapped at the Goblet of Fire, which was in front of him on said podium.

"It is time to announce our Triwizard Champions!" he yelled. The fire from the goblet turned from blue to a beautiful shade of magenta, catching the eyes of everyone in the room. A small slip of paper flew out of the fire and Dumbledore grabbed it quickly. "The Durmstrang Champion is Viktor Krum!"

A cheer went up through the room and Krum walked to the staff's table before being directed to a room off to the side. The process of the fire repeated itself, and another piece of parchment landed in Dumbledore's hands. "The Beauxbatons Champion—" he took a moment to read the paper, "—is Fleur Delacour!"

Another loud cheer.

Draco could not care less about the stupid tournament and the Champions. He was hungry. Where was his food? This was irritating.

"And finally, the Hogwarts Champion!" Dumbledore reached for the third paper and read it quickly. "Cedric Diggory!"

There was a third cheer, this one even louder than the first two combined. Cedric walked up to Dumbledore, shook his hand, and followed his instruction to reach the side room.

"That concludes the Champion selection," Dumbledore explained. "The first task will occur on November 24th, in exactly two weeks. Wish the Champions luck, students. Thank you—"

A pop startled the room as the Goblet turned another shade of magenta, this one darker and somehow scarier than the others. It's dark hue cast a red shadow on Dumbledore's face, and his eyes clouded as he turned around to see what was happened. Hesitantly, he grabbed the fourth sheet of paper as it flew out of the fire. A quizzical look appeared on his face as he read it, and with even more confusion, he called out the name. "Harry Potter!"

The entire room, every single student, went silent. It was so quiet Draco had to make sure he wasn't dreaming. No one dared to move, which made Dumbledore's already loud voice become thunderous. "Harry Potter! Please come forth."

Students began whispering again, reassuring Draco that he was, in fact, very much awake. Potter slowly stood up and walked to the front of the Great Hall, looking around like he wasn't sure where he was going. Dumbledore directed him to the back room and announced that everyone could begin eating dinner. The selection was over, for real this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a day late !! things have been crazy


End file.
